Alesa A

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It’s 6:00 a.m., she’s pressed snooze three time. She forces herself up and groggily walks to the bathroom sink. Slowly she goes through her morning routine. Face, teeth, makeup, hair. It’s 7:00 a.m., now swiftly walking she walks to her son’s room; bends over the bed and gently shakes her son, “wakey wakey eggs and bakey!” The son slowly moves as if he’s going to wake up. She smiles and quickly walks out of the room. It’s 7:30 a.m., running late, she has her clothes on and coffee in hand. She yells at her son to get going. Its 7:35 a.m., no response. She angrily stomps up the stairs to find a still sleeping son. Full of rage she starts yelling and screaming, “There’s a meeting today at 8:00 sharp, you’re going to cost me my promotion!!!” The son wakes up; showing no sign that he cares and walks to the bathroom. She starts banging on the door until the son comes out still half asleep, but with clothes on. They rush down stairs and get in the car. It’s 7:45 a.m., all she can think about is this meeting. If she rushes she can make it. Rush. Rush. Rush. Speed past that car. Rush. Rush. Rush. Was that a stop sign? Who cares? Rush. Rush. Rush. What’s the speed limit? Rush. Rush. Rush. Yellow light up ahead, she glances at the clock she can make this. Rush. Rush. RUSH! She can slowly see her promotion fading away as the seconds pass by. She’s almost there. It’s 7:53 a.m., one stop light away. She can almost grasp it. Rush. Rush. Rush. BAM! Time of death 8:00 a.m. Drive the speed limit, pay attention; nothing is worth losing your life so don’t rush through it.